Day to Day
by BookwormKiwi
Summary: Foreman reckons that Chase wouldn't have a chance with Cameron. Chase has a week to prove him wrong. House has other ideas about this budding relationship.
1. Day 1, 9am

Day to Day

Author: BookwormKiwi

Disclaimer: Not mine, but we have strong imaginations.

Pairings: I thought that would've been obvious. Chase/Cam, House/Cam

A/N: Set after Kids. Edited from original version, but only slightly.

Chapter 1: Day 1, 7am

_

* * *

Chase thumped his alarm clock violently, trying to get the ringing out of his ears. He reluctantly flung the sheets off, and swung his legs over the side of the bed._

He blinked a couple of times when he opened the blinds, light pouring in.

His hands ran through his hair as he made his way towards the bathroom. Yawning, he ran his toothbrush under the running tap and proceeded his daily morning routine.

Only semi-consciously, did Chase eat his breakfast of hastily buttered bread. He hadn't had a great night, due to an early morning phone call that had interrupted his usual sleeping pattern.

* * *

It seemed that Foreman had thought it important enough to wake Chase at 3:45 to tell him that House and Cameron were going out. Why the hell he thought it important, Chase didn't know. Chase also wondered how Foreman had found his home number. Chase only gave him his mobile number, and for _emergency_ use only.

It must be an American thing, he thought. He couldn't remember another time someone had looked around for a phone number he hadn't given them, and called up at – actually, yes he could. Perhaps not an American thing, then. Just an idiot thing.

"And this couldn't have waited till tomorrow?" he had sighed sleepily.

"Cameron just told me," Foreman admitted, "and I got a little excited."

"You didn't mind being woken up so early?" Chase asked incredulously. He was fighting the strong urge to hang up and fall back in bed.

"I…wasn't asleep."

"What the hell are you doing at this hour?"

"Doesn't matter," Foreman replied lightly. "What do you think?"

"I think I need to go to bed."

"About House and Cameron?" he persisted.

"Ah…great," Chase mumbled, not really paying attention.

There was silence at the other end of the phone.

"Great?" Foreman asked after a while. "I thought you liked her."

"I do, but…" Chase said, now feeling more awake.

"But you wouldn't have a chance," Foreman said, finishing his sentence.

"Who says I don't?" Chase asked indignantly. Foreman sighed.

"You said it yourself," he said.

"I said no such thing!"

"You were about to," Foreman told him, "and besides, she's totally wrapped in House."

Once again, there was silence. And it wasn't just from lack of sleep.

"Chase?"

"Yeah?"

"You ok?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just thought…" Foreman started hesitantly.

"Why the hell did you tell me if you thought it'd upset me?" Chase asked. His tiredness was creating frustration.

"Like I said," Foreman continued, in his nonchalant manner, "I got a bit excited. I thought you would be too."

Chase rolled his eyes. Foreman had just expressed two contradicting opinions in about three sentences.

"Fine. How's this? _What_? No _way_!" Chase cried, trying to sound energized. "House would never agree!

"How's that?" he asked again, dully, struggling not to drop off.

"Better," Foreman agreed, though sounding rather unconvinced.

"Is that why Cameron quit?" Chase tried to appear uninterested, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. "So they could go out?"

"No, it's why she's coming back," Foreman told him, his voice brightening.

"What?" Chase couldn't help but sound enthusiastic. "She's coming _back_?"

"Yeah. House went to offer her job back, and she took it, on the condition that he went to dinner with her."

"_Cameron_ did that?" Chase asked. To him, it just didn't sound…Cameron.

"She's getting desperate."

Chase didn't want to hear anymore, and not just because it had gone 4.

"We have work tomorrow," he said wearily. "It's 4 am. I'm going to bed."

Chase could hear Foreman start to protest, but didn't care, and hung up, pulling the sheets up again, rolling over, to try to get back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, I'm so excited, Love Hurts is showing FINALLY, tomorrow night! Yay!

Heh, I've been TRYING to write this for absolutely AGES, but I get writer's block after I watch House, and, well, I taped the last one, and watched it once a day, so…not much writing happening.

Does anyone happen to know a cure for writer's block?

This chapter is dedicated to livetoeat06, for your awesome reviews! Though may I say, fallacious means deceitful, while asinine means foolish.

* * *

Chapter 2

Day 1, noon

"Morning," Cameron called to him as he made his way to the Diagnostics Office for a coffee. "You look beat."

"Didn't sleep so well last night," Chase told her as he passed.

"Anything wrong?" she asked, and Chase could see a spark of concern flash on her face.

"You shouldn't assume something's wrong _every_ time someone gets a mild dose of insomnia," he smiled.

Cameron didn't return the small gesture of joy.

"Yeah, maybe," she said slowly, "but your body language tells me that that's not all there is to it."

"Why are you so worried?" Chase questioned her curiously.

Her troubled expression cleared immediately.

"I'm not," she said, shaking her head slightly. Chase looked at her for a moment longer, before nodding, and continuing towards a coffee.

Chase sank into a chair, gratefully gulping the hot liquid.

"Chase!"

Chase looked up as House entered the office.

"Just the person. Gotta show you something."

Chase sighed. Damn it, he shouldn't have looked so comfortable. Reluctantly, he rose, and deposited his coffee mug upside down on the sink.

House led him down the hall.

"New patient?" Chase asked, as he tried to keep up with the limping doctor. He seemed to be moving quicker than normal…quicker than possible.

"No. Take a look at this."

Chase followed him as he pushed open the clinic doors. It was packed full of people.

"What do you expect, House, it's cold season."

"Not just colds," House told him sorrowfully. "Car accidents. All the ice on the road."

"We Aussies have learnt to deal with situations like that," Chase said seriously. "We have hot summers instead."

"Uh huh… Well, now you're here, could you…cover for me this morning?"

"What? No!" he cried, though Chase could tell that protests would go unheard.

"Thanks, I owe you one!" House called over his shoulder, as he left hastily.

Chase spent the morning in the clinic, treating a total of 4 colds, 2 emergency broken bones, an infected scab, and a mild case of dermatitis.

Chase supposed that these patients were lucky that House refused his clinic duty, and were treated by him rather than the uncooperative doctor.

"He'll be fine after a couple of days off school," he told a grateful mother, as she ushered her son, who had a large bandaid on his arm, from the room.

"He'll be a bit sleepy; it's jus the flu wearing off, and from the antibiotics."

The mother smiled her thanks as she left with the boy.

Chase checked his watch. 1:30. House was off at 2.

Shaking his head, he called the next patient into the exam room.

As Chase left the clinic, he ran into Dr Cuddy, running the other way.

"What are you doing down here, Dr Chase?" she asked, panting slightly.

"Uh…" Chase considered telling Cuddy that House had forced him to, but he thought House might have something to say about that.

"House forced me to," he said, silently cursing himself.

"You did his duty…_again_?" she said wildly.

"…Yeah." There was no better answer, nothing not hiding the truth, anyway.

"Look," Cuddy started. "I don't want you doing his job. You're not Cameron; you can bring yourself to let me know when to kick his ass."

Chase snorted inwardly at the thought. Those high heels didn't look as if it would be at all comfortable to have them coming at you with high force.

Nodding sincerely, he said,

"Sure. No problem."

Cuddy smiled wearily.

"Thanks." Checking her watch, she added, "I gotta go. House has a new case; go make sure he does it."

He gave her thumbs up, and watched her coat disappear around the corner, before heading in the opposite direction.

* * *

A/N: Yay, someone congratulate me, I survived the whole morning without watching House. Heh, I'll be glued to the TV for an hour tonight, though. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I'm kinda annoyed at myself, as I promised myself I'd have a chapter up before…a week ago. However, I have learnt a treatment for writer's block…who wants to know!

Disclaimer of medical knowledge: Any doctor would figure out what the patient has in a second, but hey, I did my best. Some of these medical bits are going to be so, so wrong, so I hope none of you are doctors.

Chapter 3: evening

* * *

"What is _that_?" 

"It's supposed to be a salad," Chase replied, not looking up from his half-finished crossword as he swallowed a tasteless tomato.

"Lunch?" House asked. "It's almost 4."

"I had _clinic duty_."

"I've been looking for you," said House, sitting gingerly opposite Chase, ignoring his statement.

"Why?" Chase wasn't curious, but the question had to be asked.

"You saw Cuddy," he announced.

Chase visibly stiffened. He looked up to meet House's boring eyes. His voice was calm.

"Yeah." His accent was obvious every time he said this word, which was becoming increasingly often. House looked mildly disappointed.

"What, no argument?"

"You weren't wanting an agreement to you accusations?"

Chase propped his feet up on a chair to his side. House inclined his head slightly, showing indifference.

"Devil's Advocate?" Chase asked, raising a sceptic eyebrow.

"No, I just like to argue," House said comfortably.

Chase got up, and disposed his almost full salad container in a nearby bin.

"Do you need me?"

"Are you going to point out my flaws?"

Chase made a face.

"No. I value my job a little-"

"Well, then no. I don't need you." Chase's eyes lingered on House's smirk a moment later, before he turned.

"You Brits are stubborn," House commented.

"I'm not-" but House cut him off with a silencing finger.

"No disagreeing."

"We have a case," House announced, limping into the office, where his ducklings were all sitting comfortably.

"A husband brings in his wife to get her checked out for depression and fatigue," he told them. "She then feels an ache in her right arm, and then can't grip her hand bag properly."

Chase noticed Cameron looking at House with intense concentration. Her eyebrows furrowed, Chase thought she looked almost worried.

"Chase?"

Chase was brought back to earth rather sharply, as House turned to him.

"Uh…vasculitis?" he tried.

"You can do an MRI if it makes you feel better," House said unkindly. Chase shifted uncomfortably. It was usually a good guess.

"Could be hyperthyroidism," Foreman suggested, "fits the symptoms."

"Get a blood test, check the TSH(1) level."

"Myasthenia Gravis," Chase said, trying to redeem himself slightly.

"Doesn't fit all the symptoms," Cameron said solemnly. "What about the depression?"

"She could have it, _and_ be depressed," Chase argued. "If we take out the depression-"

"Why not take out the muscle factor as well," House snapped, "and we can cut it down to the common cold."

Cameron appeared to have taken him a bit more seriously, as she said, "Myasthenia Gravis doesn't explain muscle pain or weakness."

"Diabetes might cause-"

"What are you doing, going through every disease known to man?"

Chase glared at him.

"Chronic Fatigue Syndrome," Foreman put forward.

"Another possibility," House said, giving a grim smile that Chase could tell wasn't sincere. "Which one do we choose?"

"The right one," said Cameron.

"What's up?" Cameron asked Chase, as he walked into the lab, his stride indicating that this wasn't a social call.

"TSH levels normal," he told her. "He doesn't have hyperthyroidism."

Cameron made a noncommittal noise.

"What was that?"

Cameron shrugged.

"I'm going home." She yawned and pulled off her lab coat.

"It's not even 5 yet," Chase said disbelievingly.

"I'm tired."

"Have you got any more possible causes?" Chase asked her.

"For what?"

"The patient," Chase said.

"No. Well, nothing better than _vasculitis_." Cameron shook her head. "How did you come up with that?"

Chase grinned.

"House suggests it almost once a week," he said. "And I wasn't paying attention. It was a fair guess."

Cameron laughed, but she sounded awkward. To Chase, though, it seemed that she was avoiding his eyes, but he shook off the uncomfortable feeling.

Cameron grabbed her bag, and swung it over her shoulder.

"See you, Chase," she said and, without looking at him, left the room. Chase watched her retreating back, noticing that she had her head bent low, following her feet, step by step. If Chase didn't know any better, he would've said she looked sad.

* * *

(1)I hate it when writers put in stuff like this, and I have no idea what it stands for. TSH: Thyroid Stimulating Hormone

A/N: I saw The Honeymoon last...whenever it was. Wednesday. House/Cam, I reckon, is now dead. I used to go for that...can't believe I did, it'd never work out.


	4. Day 2, Morning

Chapter 4: Day 2, morning

* * *

"Morning, Cameron."

Chase greeted the doctor filling up the kettle as he bounced into the Diagnostics Office the next morning.

"Good morning, Dr Chase," Foreman said deliberately. Chase ignored him.

"Sleep well?" he asked Cameron. She turned around, and her red eyes gave an obvious answer.

Chase felt a little bad, as she gulped down a mug of lukewarm coffee, for being in such a good mood, while Cameron was a bit down.

Looking anxiously, but surreptitiously at Cameron, Chase sat down.

He took out the Rubik's Cube he'd been working on for little under a week.

House entered the room.

"Haven't you solved that yet?"

Chase ignored him, and gave the block a twist.

"You've had enough time. Rubik invented those in 1974."

"Really," Chase replied, uninterested.

"Yep, and I finished it about an hour after they started selling them."

He half-limped, half-hopped over to the sink. He opened the drawer, and rummaged through it.

Finally, he turned to face his team.

"Right. Who finished the coffee?"

Foreman didn't answer. He flipped a page of his medical journal, his eyes scanning the pages quickly.

Chase didn't look up from his puzzle.

"I did," Cameron said, the lack of sleep showing in her voice. "I needed- House!"

Her sharp ejaculation brought Chase and Foreman's heads up quickly.

Cameron was staring in complete astonishment at House.

Chase followed her gaze, and saw only House, turning at his name, and looking unnerved at his colleagues' eyes on him.

"What?" he asked roughly.

"Where's…where's your…where's your…" she stuttered, pointing a quavering finger at him.

"It's in my…in my…in my…" House mimicked her.

Chase cleared his throat quietly, and brought a hand up to his mouth to hide his grin. He didn't want Cameron to think he was laughing at her.

But his amusement faded into amazement as he noticed what Cameron had so much quicker than the boy's.

Chase's mouth fell open, but he gave a breath of laughter.

"Where's your cane?"

He said it much more casually than he thought Cameron would have.

"Oh," House said, grimacing slightly. "You noticed."

"To hell, we noticed," Cameron said hollowly. "Oh, my God, House, are you ok? How's your leg? Doesn't it hurt? When could you walk on it? Is it healed? Can you-"

"Whoa," House interrupted, making a 'time-out' sign with his hands. "I played 20 Questions yesterday, and if I knew you were so into it, I would've invited you along. Never mind, next ti-"

"House!" Cameron cried. "What's going on?"

Chase looked on, leaning back n his chair, fascinated at the scene that was unfolding in front of him.

Foreman, too, had wisely decided to keep out of it.

"Nothing's going on," House insisted, but Chase knew that Cameron wouldn't let it stop there.

However, to his surprise, she did. Chase was disappointed because, although he didn't want to ask outright, he wanted to know, just as much as Cameron or Foreman, why House had gotten rid of his cane.

It seemed that the matter had been dropped.


End file.
